


Mine

by Blondjjong



Category: EXO (Band), SHINee
Genre: Angst and Feels, Canon Compliant, M/M, Rating May Change, Slice of Life, unbeta’d
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-18 21:15:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14221938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blondjjong/pseuds/Blondjjong
Summary: ‘Let’s stop holding back on this and lets get carried away’





	1. Cycle

They’ve been driving for hours now, twisting, and winding through parts of Seoul Jongin has seen over, and over again. They always seem to take the same routes, honestly it’s a damned miracle the netizens haven’t nailed it down yet, but then that's probably why Taemin picked to drive this route in the first place. Jongin’s gaze is lazy in the way it roams the streets, letting the neon lights that keep the city alive this time of night blur in his vision, Jongin’s sight turned inwards to his thoughts rather than the world passing him by. The black tinted glass of the window is cold where it presses to his forehead, numbing his skin. All aspects of the moment twine together making him feel like he’s caught in some kind of music video, melancholic and distant.

“Jongin.” Taemin is careful in the way he speaks Jongin’s name. No pet names, no teasing lith to his voice, just ‘Jongin’; plain but so far from simple. It’s the first either of them has spoken in a while, silence stretching like miles between them. The playlist is low on the speakers, restarting for the third time that night, and Jongin can’t pretend not to hear him. Jongin doesn’t reply though, his eyes don’t even lift from the black asphalt, don’t so much as part from the stream of lights glowing bright in the dark of the night.

Jongin can feel the way Taemin’s gaze slides to the side as the car comes to a stop at a red light, eyes boring heavy into the side of Jongin’s head. The weight of it is heavy on Jongin’s skin, as if Taemin could somehow read him in point form, with a list of bullets detailing the words he’s trying to pull from Jongin. A moment later though the light is green and Taemin’s eyes are back on the road, releasing Jongin from his scrutiny. A heavy sigh passes Taemin’s lips as his head tips back ever so slightly to rest against the headrest, the leather of the steering wheel creaking where he grips it a bit harder for a moment before letting up, tension pulling tight from Taemin’s chest to deep in his gut. He’s already got a pretty good idea whats wrong. They’ve been here before and Jongin has never been good at concealing emotions with anyone. He wears them like cue cards for the world around him, and Taemin, well Taemin had long ago mastered the script those cards were copied from.

It’s another turn, another stretch of road, and a lane change before Jongin realizes they’re heading towards the edge of town, closer to it than they’ve dared venture in a very long time. He chances a glance at Taemin, trying to keep it subtle and failing as the sight of the other catches him. Taemin’s long blond hair is pushed back from his face, eyes tired, and lips full, his white v-neck stretched just right yet wrinkled over his chest, stark in contrast to the size too large hoodie that hangs comfortable on his frame, black with bold white letters in english Jongin can’t read along the arm. Taemin is so much more fit, so much more tired than the last time they’d seen eachother, all make-up free, acne scars, late night scruff, and dark eyes. It’s been so damn long since Jongin has had Taemin like this, undone, unfiltered, and just himself. It grabs hard at Jongin’s chest, twisting, and it’s all he can do to look away again. Taemin has been in Los Angeles for weeks now, a literal ocean away, preparing for his solo debut. It’s their first time actually seeing each other since he’d touched back down in Korea, and Jongin knows with both their schedules Taemin may as well be back in America, because it’ll be the last time they’ll see each other for a while. Yet here they are, sitting in the dark, in tense silence rather than actually enjoying the time they’ve got, all because Jongin can’t hide his emotions once they’ve taken hold

“Are we going to talk about this, or are we just going to spend another three hours in silence? ‘Cause honestly Jongin, I’m too exhausted.”

It’s not biting, the way the words leave Taemin’s mouth, each syllable just as tired as he says he is, as Jongin knows he is. It breaks Jongin because it’s the most vulnerable he gets Taemin; without the biting sarcasm the older’s tiredness normally brings. Just raw honesty, unconcealed in a way Taemin never is publicly. A soft sigh of Jongin’s own is breathed into the air, Jongin shifting in his seat, forehead lifting from the window, so that he can see the blond, focusing his poorly guarded gaze onto Taemin.

“I-” Jongin feels stupid saying it out loud. That's why he didn’t bring it up in the first place, didn’t comment on it when he realized just what was happening two weeks ago. Logically Jongin thought he had no right to be feeling so jealous over Taemin, felt he should be setting the feeling aside, separating what was an appropriate reaction for their situation from what he desires, that he himself should be reasonable about all of this. In all the years they’ve been at this its one place Jongin falls short, something he’s never been good at. Taemin knows this though, he knows how ruled by his emotions Jongin can be, and its part of why they’re back here again. Taemin’s knowing is the reason why Jongin swallows hard, composing his thoughts before continuing.

“You’re seeing him…aren’t you?” Jongin tries to keep his tone light, tries to strip all accusation from it, but he’s not about to analyze just how well he did at that.

Taemin’s eyes slide to Jongin once more, leaving the road a moment before flitting back to it, his fingers tapping quiet and anxious at the steering wheel. The lack of reply leaves a silence Jongin knows he’s expected to fill, knows this routine as well as any group choreography he’s burned into his memory. Jongin knows he has to get his suspicions out of his system, has to vocalize them before Taemin will give him a real response. Taemin isn’t a mind reader, despite how often it feels like he sits with ease inside of Jongin’s head, when it comes to things like this though Taemin falls short, and Jongin knows that.

“It’s just, I mean shit Taemin, it's been forever since we’ve really talked, you barely called when you were there and I just...I heard from Jonghyun hyung that you guys were- that you were seeing one of your new dancers, and it wasn’t hard to figure out who, and I mean that's cool and all, if you are, it’s just that. I don’t know. I just wanted to know for sure, ya know? Just…yeah…” Jongin knows he’s rambling, the words spilling far from gracefully out of his mouth, betraying his usually articulate ability to convey his thoughts, but it’s been on his mind for so long it's like they can’t get out fast enough.

“Yeah, hyung was right. It’s the truth.”

Jongin is sinking back into his seat when Taemin’s words hit him right deep below his rib cage, teeth pulling his bottom lip between them, pressing gently as his gut twists.

“I was seeing him while I was there. It’s the first time in a long, long ass time I’ve been out of the public eye, since I could just explore, and relax, and just...exist. Just figure out some bit of who I am outside of just, work. What I need when I’m just me.” Taemin pauses, letting the truth settle between them, his voice quieter when he speaks again. “It was nice, it was something new, and it’s over Jongin. It was only a bit of indulgence.”

It’s not a stretch for Jongin to understand, to know where Taemin is coming from. More than anything Taemin is just confirming what Jongin had already suspected but that doesn’t make the words any easier to swallow. They roll heavy in his mouth, sitting like sour candy on the tongue. Jongin knows Taemin is giving him the truth, can read him like a book, but despite giving Jongin exactly what he’d asked for, Jongin wants nothing more than to tell him to leave, wants to tell him to fuck off, and cut ties on all the emotional, on all the sexual whatever this is they’ve got between them. The words that Taemin had handed him moments earlier are rising like bile in Jongin’s throat and it’s all Jongin can do not to spit them back in his face, not to tell him to keep his indulgences, and leave Jongin the hell alone with it all. He doesn’t though, quiet settling like roads they’ve driven tonight between them once more.

-

“Take me home.”

It’s been a good twenty minutes since either of them has spoken, and the deep tenor of Jongin’s voice breaking the silence has Taemin’s eyes snapping away from the road, eyebrows raised as he looks Jongin’s way. This isn’t where this kind of situation normally goes, it's been a very long time since Jongin has taken them down this route, but he’s deviating from it. The sudden change in choreography has a ball of uncertainty tightening Taemin’s chest, making his thoughts chaos, slowly dropping, and settling one by one low inside him.

“Jongin-ah-”

“I said take me home, Taemin.” There’s no fight in the words, just decision, Jongin sounding just as exhausted as Taemin feels, as he’s sure the younger feels too. Taemin does as he asks, turning the car at the next intersection, heading back towards Jongin’s dorm. Drowning out the silence with his own thoughts, Taemin worries his lip between his teeth, a habit, just like so many of the shared quirks that define them as people, he’s not too sure which one of them picked up from the other.

The drive back seems way too quick for how far out of the district they’d managed to cruise. Taemin pulls them up around the back, flicking off the headlights as he pulls into the dark of the carpark, stopping in one of the vacant spaces there. The sound of Jongin’s seatbelt clicks loud as Taemin is shifting them into park, giving Taemin barely enough time to kill the engine before Jongin’s hand is on the door handle.

“Text when you’re inside.” ‘or i’ll worry’ is added to the words left unsaid that seem to be building a barrier between them.

It’s an impulse reaction when Taemin reaches out as Jongin makes to leave, hand wrapping loose around Jongin’s arm, keeping him from leaving, yet not tight enough to stop Jongin if he wanted to go.

“Jongin.”

Taemin leans forwards in his seat, trying all too obviously to catch the other’s eyes with his own.

“Jongin.”

It’s at the second near plea of his name that Jongin folds, eyes lifting to lock with Taemin’s, his hand still rested and ready on the door, as if he still wasn’t entirely invested in staying to hear whatever the older had to say. Softly this time Taemin speaks his words as if they’re meant only for Jongin’s ears, like they’re a secret only the two of them can share, a private admission.

“Look, I was seeing him but Jongin- I, I can’t stop thinking about you. The whole time I was just trying to fall into it, you know? Just let myself be a normal twenty year old dating someone for once in my life, and the whole damn time I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

There's a pause, Jongin’s heart in his throat, much the same as he’s sure Taemin’s own is, this heart on your sleeve confession far more to Jongin’s style than it is Taemin’s.

“So yeah, I was seeing someone but it's over because I can’t stop thinking about you.” Taemin sounds so vulnerable, so frustrated with it all.

Jongin can’t help the small, sad smile that tugs at the corner of his lips as his hand falls away from the door, his body leaning into Taemin’s personal space, pressing a kiss to the older’s lips for the first time in far too long. Their noses bump, and Taemin’s lips are far from the plush softness they normally are, bitten raw from the anxiety he’s been carrying around as of late, but it's all too perfect in the way it unravels all the tension Jongin had bundled up in knots in his chest. Their lips part, foreheads brushing gently, blond hair falling to tickle Jongin’s face, Taemin’s hand lifting up to rest in its familiar spot at the back of Jongin’s neck, thumb rubbing gently against his nape.

“Yeah…I’ve been there too, a few times.” Taemin gives him his own half quirk of a smile in return to Jongin’s murmured admittance, leaning forwards to press their lips together once again. Jongin sighs into the kiss, settling into the feeling of calm that washes over him as Taemin’s lips move gently against his own, exhaustion following close behind the warm swell of his chest. It’s a slow moment later that Jongin is pulling back, disengaging from Taemin to reach for the door, popping it open, the sound loud in the empty car park.

“You’re staying with me tonight.” Their eyes lock easily with the overhead light now illuminating the two of them as Jongin states the plan, holding Taemin’s gaze just long enough for the words to have weight before stepping out of the car.

“I know.”

Taemin can’t help but chuckle at Jongin making as if there was really to be any other end to this drive. Pulling his keys from the ignition and unbuckling himself Taemin steps out of the car, following Jongin home.


	2. You Know Where I Stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to give fair warning that there is mentions of Jonghyun, just of him nothing of real note, in this chapter.

It’s so soft, so slow the way that Taemin wakes up, the first thing registering, as he comes out of the pleasant haze of the dream world, is just how damn comfortable he is. With leisure Taemin lets his mind process what his senses are picking up around him: The excessive amount of blankets near smothering him and the perfect kind of pre-winter nesting warmth they envelop him in. That's the first cue as to where he’s curled up, lost in a drift, and slowly surfacing. The tiny lump of warmth that has made a home in the crook at the back of Taemin’s knees, is too small to be one of his or Jongin’s dogs and can only be identified as Roo; forever one of the most comforting things he finds about staying at Jonghyun’s house. The whole room smells like the vanilla candle that was already on the warmer when they’d arrived, combines with that distinct musk Taemin can only attribute to his older hyung. It’s blissful, so peaceful, and Taemin thinks he could stay like this forever. Truly.

It’s not perfect though, and that's why Taemin is blinking open bleary eyes, letting them adjust to the dark of the room. A barely there warm glow emanates from the farthest corner of the room, easing the adjustment of his vision, coming from a nightlight Jonghyun had installed out of the genuine fear of stepping on his pup while navigating the dark that Jonghyun’s room forever seemed to be cast in; for the rare times that the wide array of candles, stashed on the ledges along his walls, weren’t alight, of course. Taemin extends his legs in a stretch, long toes parting as he does, taking fleeting note of the way his sleep pants have once again ridden up to his kneecaps, a battle he’s been fighting forever and a day. His arms are next then, though not extending in a stretch but with reaching fingers, finding what they’re looking for in a worn, soft, grey, long sleeve shirt, twinning in the material to tug the body it was wrapped around closer. Taemin receives the mildest of groans in protest as long fingers press gently into Jongin’s ribs, pulling the heavy weight of the other towards his chest, arms winding around Jongin’s torso, pressing him as close as he can. Theres the briefest of mumbled incoherency coming from Jongin, forever displeased with whatever chooses to disturb him in rare, and sacred sleep, before the younger boy is pushing his face into the pillow that Taemin’s own head had rested the night on.

Taemin is smiling to himself, eyes not even trying to focus on the black fluff of hair thats now obscuring the bit of vision he’d gained since waking, dipping his head down a bit further instead, nose brushing the back of Jongin’s neck, pressing the softest of kisses at Jongin’s nape. Taemin lets out a soft hum of contentment as Roo once again settles in the crook of his legs, that dream like comfort settling over him once more. He inhales deeply, the scent of Jongin: sleep dusted sweat, that old spice body wash he always seemed to use when they were at their hyung’s, and a smell that Taemin couldn’t nail down as anything other than Jongin himself. It’s always reminded him of when he stands watching for the subway as it come up the tunnel, that warm rush of earthy metallic air that caresses his face, and blows his hair that he's always loved like a guilty pleasure. Taemin loves the scent the way some people love lavender, or that smell right after it rains. Maybe because it reminds him Jongin, he supposes.

Taemin lays like this for a long while, soaking it in, letting each of the little tensions life has knotted into him, into his body, and his mind slip away. They’ve both settled, though not too deeply, he can tell, because there's none of the soft snores that always accompany a truly asleep Jongin. Absently Taemin’s mind is a wander, thoughts roaming lazily over the boy in his arms: His broad shoulders, and his long legs, how much softer Jongin’s hair is than Taemin’s own, in a natural way as it brushes Taemin’s forehead, unlike the nutrient treated softness his own hair carries, from fair attempts to repair the chemical damaged strands. His thoughts amble over the way Jongin’s body seems to be forever building itself, muscle stretching over Jongin in ways great artists have spent centuries carving into marble, and stone alike, the way his chest rises, and falls just out of time of Taemin’s own, and just how incredibly warm Jongin’s body always is at night; how Jongin is forever freezing during the day Taemin has never come to understand.

Taemin is moving his arms then, carefully, for the grasp of sleep still clearly has them wrapped up tight, fingers nimble as they slip up under that grey shirt. His hands come to rest a bit unevenly, one over the other on the soft as ever skin of Jongin’s stomach. The muscles under his fingers flutter a moment at the contact before the younger is settling again, pressing himself back into Taemin’s body, letting out a soft pleased sigh of contentment as he allows Taemin to simply envelop him. It’s that softest pleased noise, the way that despite the fact that Taemin always seems to be the one being protected these days, that he is shorter, and slimmer in frame, is lacking that deep kind of masculinity that Jongin carries, the fact that the younger clearly feels so safe like this, has Taemin’s heart swelling in a way only the boy in his arms has the ability to trigger. With Taemin wrapped around him, holding him close, tight, and warm, and just so vulnerably themselves.

Another kiss is pressed slow and soft to Jongin’s nape, Taemin’s chin tipping to brush at that patch of skin behind the dancer’s ear as he whispers, voice deep, and raspy with sleep.

“I love you.”

The words are spoken slowly and it's only a moment later that Jongin’s arm is shifting under the blankets, dipping up under Taemin’s own shirt, to twine slender fingers around Taemin’s much shorter. It’s all the reply Taemin needs to know Jongin is awake enough that he’s listening, that he’s heard Taemin.

Time is lost to him as they lay there, eyes closed in the dark, slowly breathing in the scent of Jongin, and soaking in the warm haze the room has draped around them. Jongin is playing with the ring on Taemin’s thumb, something that's become habit enough over the years, Taemin sometimes wonders if Jongin even realizes he does it. It’s a comfort to the older though, another secret little bit of them he treasures.

It’s been an up and down ride for the two of them lately. The lifestyle they lead leaving little room for the kind of attachment they hold, and they both know that. It doesn’t make things any easier though, especially when you have no desire to let go of the person you’ve come to expect to be at your side, no matter the nature of things. There was the pictures of them hitting the tabloids earlier in the year, something the company had cracked down hard on them for; despite the saying, all publicity is not always good publicity. Then there was Taemin’s time away in Los Angeles, the boyfriend he’d picked up along the way, the stresses pulling at the seams of Jongin’s own group, and the emotional ties he’d rooted there in Taemin’s distance, not to mention the sprinkling of rumours that forever circled the two of them. It was part of the job, Taemin has always known that, has lived it time, and time again, certainly would again in the future. Now a new scandal was about to hit but it was Jongin’s turn to bear the scrutiny. Despite what him and Jongin both knew, in spite of their ‘work is work’ approach to it all, they both knew that sometimes these things hit their friendship, if it could be called that with all the layers involved, they hit it hard. Taemin couldn’t help the bits of uncertainty that surfaces at times like that.

“I love you Jongin.”

Taemin says it again, still a whisper but more audible this time, wanting to be sure Jongin hears it, knows he means it. The large fingers intertwined with Taemin’s own give a squeeze in reply, Jongin, as Taemin knows too well, preferring to speak in body language rather than with words themselves. He’s still listening though so Taemin lets his thoughts spill out. They’re small, pointed really, he’s never been one for stating affection out loud, especially not when it comes to what was between them; because that's dangerous. They both know it. There's a line, its thin, and its fragile, in a way that they are not, in a way that their adoration for each other is not. Sometimes though, sometimes Taemin can’t help the doubt he feels slowly creeping into the cracks of where they stand.

“Mine.” Taemin states, then pauses, letting the word linger between them in the quiet of the room. “I just want to say you’re mine.”

Jongin leans back into him, letting his weight truly rest against Taemin, fingers holding tight and settling. There's a heavy beating in Taemin’s chest at the confession coming slow from within, and he can feel an equally intense pulse against his palm pressed to Jongin’s abdomen.

“Fuck what you heard, you’re mine. You’re mine.”

Jongin’s head tilts from its place on the pillow, Taemin shifting back a bit as Jongin’s hair brushes his face. Taemin’s grip around him loosens as the younger turns slowly, and barely gracefully in the bed. Once he’s facing Taemin though he’s shoving long strong legs forwards, feeling around for Taemin’s own slender ones to tangle them together. Jongin’s head rests on Taemin’s pillow once again, their faces close enough he can feel each hot exhale of Jongin’s breath. Taemin wastes no time replacing his arm around Jongin’s waist, letting it drape loose this time. Jongin’s eyes are so dark in this light but Taemin can see them, still half lidded, and swollen from sleep but fixed on Taemin. He’s more than ready for it when Jongin leans in to press sleep sticky lips to his own, the kiss soft, and chaste, landing more on the corner of his mouth than anything, but spreading just the perfect amount of warmth, and emotional need throughout him. It’s moments later Jongin’s head is back on the pillow, still quiet despite it all.

“You’re mine.”

Taemin repeats a last time, like its non-disputable despite the softness of his tone. Jongin’s hand untangles itself from the blankets weaving its way up, and out of them to cup a warm palm at his favoured, and most affectionate place at the back of Taemin’s neck. He’s watching Taemin in the dark, drinking him in slowly, and Taemin lets him, feeling far too emotionally spread open for the other man at the moment to do anything else.

“As long as you know who you belong to.”

Jongin’s voice matches the same soft tone Taemin’s had been, although the hours of sleep they’ve been hidden away for has the deep tenor of his voice even more a rasp than usual. He’s still watching Taemin and it’s pressing into all the cracks the older had been feeling. Those words so much more possessive than Jongin ever vocalizes being. It’s got Taemin curling into him then, tucking his head under Jongin’s chin, dropping a kiss to his adam’s apple, and letting himself all too contentedly be enveloped in the younger in reply.


End file.
